


What He Did

by Jemisard



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemisard/pseuds/Jemisard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mohinder has always made a mess of his life without ever doing a thing. (One sided incest.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What He Did

Somewhere between mapping the ninth chromosome and eliminating nineteen more markers, his little boy had grown up and become a strange, beautiful man that haunted his house.

He didn’t remember it happening. One day, he was brushing aside queries and pleas from a child that looked nothing at all like his Shanti and the next-

The next he was looking up as a young man walked into his office with the casual grace of a tiger and a beautiful, shy smile and calling him father.

Watching Mohinder talk over dinner, and then curled up in his office late into the evening, he couldn’t quite reconcile the two in his mind. The son that had let his beloved daughter die through no fault of his own at all and this man with bright intelligence in his eyes and words.

Somewhere between his office the day that Mohinder arrived home from England and hugging his son too long in his office as they parted for bed, he developed an infatuation with the man that his son had become.

Every moment was too much and all the moments together didn’t begin to fill the need he felt. To just watch, to listen, to be enchanted. If he were a superstitious man, he would suspect the man child, his child had bewitched him, but he was not. As always in his life, the chaos and turmoil Mohinder left was everything to do with him and through no doing of his own.

When the hole became too much for even the blood of a thousand donations to fill, he found himself outside his son’s room, opening the door quietly to peer inside.

Mohinder was asleep, as when he was a child, he was tangled in his sheets, sprawled across the mattress as his hair was across his pillow. His fingers stretched and curled in his sleep, grasping what wasn’t there.

He stepped in and over to the bed, drawing the desk chair over to the bed and sat, sliding his hand into Mohinder’s. The restless grasping stopped immediately, such a primal reflex calmed with just a simple touch.

Moonlight barely touched the bed. He’d thought that maybe Mohinder would look wrong in moonlight, best suited to bright, sunny days, but it wasn’t so. He looked different, granted, but he was no less beautiful now than any other moment.

He felt the same, the hair that he brushed his fingers through the same soft, clinging curls that caught his fingers before letting them go. His skin was the same, smoother than the raw silk of his shirts, just a burnished silver in the light but the same perfect lines of neck and shoulder that bore not a mark. Contrast to his own hands, lined and calloused from years of lab work.

Mohinder stirred, a murmur on his lips. He almost drew away but didn’t, instead bringing his hand up to once again stroke back the young man’s hair. “It’s just me, Mohinder.”

“Hm?” His eyes cracked open and peered. “Father?”

“Yes. Go back to sleep.” He stroked that cheek and gave in to the need to press his lips to one temple. “I didn’t meant to wake you.”

“S’okay.” The dark eyes closed again, already relaxing back into sleep. “It’s nice.”

Chandra sat there until Mohinder was deeply asleep again and then some, taking in every line and every scent and every movement. Even when his wife stopped by the door he paid no attention, not even to her smile and fond fingers in his hair as he sat with Mohinder during the night.

When sunlight first started to melt away the silver and bring golden tones back to Mohinder’s skin, Chandra pressed a last kiss to his forehead, drew the blankets up over the tempting curve of his shoulder and walked out.

Mohinder would never know what he did to lose his father.


End file.
